Chapter 31: "5 Pieces"

The Erikson House, Pemberton Steps, San Franbcisco

​Christmas Day had arrived with an unsettling air of tension. Inspector Samuel Kruse found himself working on what should have been a day of celebration, but instead was marred by a murder in the Erikson House in Twin Peaks’ Pemberton Steps that had shattered the early hours of Christmas morning. As the clock struck 1:00 a.m., Kruse's mind was far from holiday cheer, focused instead on the grim task before him.

"Another murder on Christmas Day," Kruse muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “For once, it didn’t happen in the Tenderloin.”

The streets of the city were eerily quiet; the usual festive decorations appeared somber, shrouded in the early hours' dripping fog. The Erikson house on Pemberton Steps stood at the center of the chaos, now a crime scene swarmed by forensic teams and police officers. The scent of pine needles mingled discordantly with the sharp, metallic tang of blood.

"Who could have done this?" Officer Patel asked, his voice trembling slightly as he surveyed the scene.

Inspector Kruse adjusted his coat, aware that the investigation required his immediate attention. The clock was ticking, and the truth behind the murder had to be uncovered.

"We need to move quickly," Kruse said, his voice firm. "Every second counts."

EMT workers whisked away two injured victims, house owner Abel Erikson and his mother Zelta, to an ambulance bound for San Francisco General Hospital. Samuel experienced a bittersweet mix of emotions upon seeing artist Zeno Eliot in the living room, realizing he lived in the Erikson house. He had met Zeno in North Beach, liked him very much, and attended his exhibition at Fong Gallery on Market Street. It wasn’t lost on him that he owned a self-portrait of Zeno, hanging in his bedroom—a memento now tinged with sorrow.

"Zeno, I need to ask you some questions," Kruse said, his tone gentle yet firm.

Zeno was accompanied by his friend, Travis Weatherford. The atmosphere grew increasingly somber as they came across the deceased in the hall. He had been shot from behind twice, or so it seemed. The medical examiner and the forensics team meticulously handled the body details.

"Do you recognize this man?" Kruse asked Zeno, pointing at the body.

Just then, an officer approached, holding a plastic evidence bag containing what appeared to be the murder weapon—a Luger pistol. Samuel took the bag, his eyes narrowing as he studied the gun, then glanced up to observe Zeno's reaction.  His face changed, and he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to his friend, Travis, who looked equally unsettled. Samuel couldn't shake the feeling that the weapon might hold more significance than just being a murder instrument.

"Yes, I knew him," Zeno said, his voice heavy with a mix of relief and sorrow. He watched as the sheet was pulled over the lifeless face. "Ahab Erikson is dead without mercy." A deep sigh escaped him, the weight of a long-held secret lifting from his shoulders. The man who had held his future in his hands was gone, and the Luger bore the undeniable proof of his demise.

"I need you both at headquarters for further questioning," Kruse said, his eyes locking onto Zeno's.

Given the circumstances, Samuel knew they all needed to be interrogated at headquarters—Zeno Eliot, Travis Weatherford, neighbor Klara Belinsky, and probably a host of others yet to be uncovered. Klara had mentioned seeing a red-haired woman running from the house and the scene of the crime, a detail that could prove crucial to the investigation.

"Klara, can you describe the woman you saw?" Kruse asked, his voice steady.

Klara eagerly recounted her observations, stating, "As I informed the other officer, Inspector, the woman had fiery red hair and fled the house wearing a blue jacket that billowed in the wind. She attempted to enter a car parked on the street, but it was locked.”

"Can you describe the car? The make, color, license plate?" Kruse asked.

"It was a Porsche," Klara confirmed. "A dull yellow 1970s model. I only caught part the license plate number. I'm certain it was something like JA-507, but can't recall the middle letter."

However, upon inspection, there was no trace of the car that had been parked haphazardly in the street with its lights on.

"We need to locate that car," Kruse asserted, his resolve unyielding as he observed Zeno embracing Travis. "It could be the key to finding the killer."